Alban
by Sweet-surrender1
Summary: (Unfinished) Original story about a boys boarding school. If it gets good reviews I will continue it.


Twelve year old Alban lay in bed staring up at the ceiling of the boys boarding school in Kelby, a lonely place with the sea on one side and woods on the other. Kelby couldn't really be called a town, considering there was nothing there except for the school. The school itself was dark and cold with no desirable qualities at all, at least not for orphans like Alban.  
  
Alban had short, spiky, white hair and hazel eyes. He was a mild mannered boy who didn't complain much. He would prefer to accept things for what they were, rather then fuss about what was wrong. His manner was strange, too, considering he could have found a lot to complain about. The boy was unusually skinny, from lack of being properly nourished and he had several cuts and bruises, mostly on is arms and back.  
  
He wore the standard school uniform (the orphans uniform, that is) which was a white button up shirt and brown colored slacks, along with a simple black belt with a silver clasp, and red cloth shoes. Along with the uniform, he wore a red strap around his forehead. For pajamas he wore a blue nightshirt with matching pants made of a light fabric that resembled tissue, only not as easy to tear.  
  
Though the weather was often unbearably cold, the boys weren't given anything warmer then what they had. The school insisted on spending as little as possible on the orphans and wouldn't spare any jackets or sweaters. In fact, the beds the boys slept on couldn't really be properly called beds! More like wooden cells, stacked together with a thin burgundy curtain on one side. The only mattress they had was a flimsy bedroll, usually about two inches thick and the only blankets they were given were thin flannel sheets.  
  
The way the beds were arranged was much like how you would imagine beds on a train to be, stacked on top of each other and in very skinny rows. All back to back, eleven beds to a row and four to a stack with twenty-four rows, making quarters extremely cramped.  
  
Alban's bed was seventh down on row thirteen, fourth up, making the ceiling of the room only about a foot from Alban's nose, a dangerous place to be if you're prone to sitting up quickly, or falling out of bed.  
  
Fortunately for Alban, he was neither of these, always a very sound sleeper (once he fell asleep) and very aware of his surroundings. His true problem, wasn't staying asleep, or doing something awful in his sleep, but more of just falling asleep. He often was awake until very late into the night, or more like, very early in the morning. Tonight was no exception, and he had nothing to do but stare up at the ceiling and imagine what it was like outside. Since windows in the school were scarce, and most were reserved for boys who had fathers and mothers who paid a pretty penny to give their sons the best quarters on the planet, Alban could really only imagine what was on the outside of the building.  
  
The boys who were not orphaned had considerably, dramatically different lives then Alban and the other parentless children. They had large quarters, a common room, windows in every room, nice beds with thick blankets, not to mention they could eat whatever they wanted.  
  
Their uniforms were different too. Of course, they still had the brown slacks, the white button up shirts, and the belts, but they had notable extras, such as royal blue jackets with bright brass buttons and shoes made of leather instead of cloth. You can bet they weren't exactly modest about their privileges either.  
  
None of the advantages given to the other boys really bothered Alban. He wasn't the type of person who made it their business to complain about hardships. He was often questioned by other boys about why he was so easy going, as they, for the most part, made as much a bother about it as they could. The one that questioned him the most happened to be his own best friend, Rhoswen.  
  
Rhoswen, or Rhos as he was often called, was also twelve years old. He had short, emerald colored hair, and green eyes mostly hidden by his goggle-like glasses. It seemed to Alban that Rhos never stopped complaining, but it didn't really bother him. Rhos was constantly finding new reasons to complain, but not only complain. He tried to make the boarding school sound like an evil conspiracy against orphans. He often was trying to come up with ways to "cheat the system" by trying to steal food and escape. These plans never actually got him anything more then a beating, but it didn't stop him.  
  
Alban sighed, as he still couldn't fall asleep. He pushed the burgundy curtain aside and looked down at Rhoswen's bunk to see if he was still awake. It seemed pretty quiet, but Alban couldn't help but think that if he was still awake Rhoswen had to be. He pushed the curtain in front of Rhoswen's bunk aside and peeked into it. Much to his surprise, Rhos was gone!  
  
Alban pulled himself into Rhoswen's bunk and looked around, scratching his head. Where had he gone too? He peeked back outside the curtain and looked around. Rhos had to know that you weren't supposed to be out of bed. Alban sighed and quietly climbed down the side of bunks to the floor. He almost yelped, that floor was cold, especially with bare feet.  
  
Alban walked silently down the row, and looked from the right to the left.  
  
"Rhos! Dang it. where are you?" he whispered, walking down the corridors quietly. He tiptoed towards the door and walked out into the hall. He walked as carefully as he could down the hall and looked around.  
  
Suddenly, an unseen hand covered Alban's mouth and he was pulled into a dark doorway to his right. He kicked the hidden attacker in what he assumed to be the stomach and jumped away as it fell over backwards. He turned towards what he had kicked, to find that it was none other then his friend Rhoswen, laying on the floor groaning about his stomach.  
  
"Alban. jeez, kick me again, I'm not quite dead yet.." He groaned.  
  
"Erm. sorry. How was I supposed to know it was you?" Alban said, helping Rhoswen to his feet. "What are you doing out here, anyway? If we get caught they'll whip us 'till we bleed and I know 'cause it's happened before.."  
  
"I didn't tell you to follow me." Rhoswen said, grinning slightly. "I just knew you would! Besides, I have a great plan!" Alban sighed.  
  
"A great plan for what exactly?" He asked cautiously. Rhoswen ignored his question, and walked over to a corner to look up at the ceiling.  
  
"Do you know the others have their own food storeroom?" He asked absently. Alban frowned.  
  
"Oh man. You had better not be thinking what I think your thinking.." He said, walking over to where Rhoswen was looking up at the ceiling.  
  
"Do you also know that the vent in this very room would lead us straight to the common room with that storeroom in it?" He said, grinning up at the vent he was standing under. Alban shook his head, still frowning.  
  
"Rhos. you're crazy. you really have gone off the deep end." Alban said. His friend continued to grin.  
  
"You know, if I climbed up on your shoulders I could reach the vent easily." He hinted, looking back at Alban.  
  
"Yeah? And.? Don't think I'm gonna help you with this, Rhos! I'm going back too bed." Alban said turning towards the door. Rhoswen grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back.  
  
"Come on. you know I'd help you with anything.." He said in a whiney voice. Alban sighed and looked up at the vent.  
  
"You're crazy, you know that? And I'm crazy for having anything to do with you. just hurry up, right?" He said. Rhoswen grinned and climbed up on Alban's shoulders. 


End file.
